


Shine

by UnrelatedAnatomy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Gwyn sells his own flesh because money, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Gore, Self-Mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26160733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrelatedAnatomy/pseuds/UnrelatedAnatomy
Summary: Gwyn only cares for money and in turn makes irresponsible decisions because of it.Any criticism is really welcome honestly, I'm new to posting my writing to public places such as this, and I figured it will help boost my confidence in said writing if i could get feedback from people who happen upon this stuff.In any case thank you for reading :)





	Shine

"How much?" Gwyn's eyes track to the parcel being offered, small irises picking out the glint of coin when it was bared to him. This client was a quiet one, wouldn't mention the exact sum, but Gwyn could calculate it based on looks and sound alone. He slowly sits up from the sheets, adjusting so his legs dangled over the edge of the bed without a word.

It was a lot, for some eccentric he supposed they _were_ willing to pay top dollar for their particular tastes or curiosities. He thought for a moment, unable to take his gaze off of the shine provided and weighing it in his mind. He sold his body before but not in this manner, yet how was it any different? The harm to himself? skin wounds heal and fill, scars already littered his arms from mindless pickings, nails digging into skin to feel something. What was another one? another crack in his skin, a testament dedicated to how truly desperate he felt.

His hands lightly move at the skin on his thigh, pinching it between his fingers and getting an idea of how thick the meat there was. Like all aspects of him it was still rather thin, not much could be gathered between his hands, but if the glance of the other was any indication- it wouldn't matter if it were much or not, just the meat was fine. There's a sigh from him, lips pressing together chapped and raw.

"I'll do it." _What was another scar? What was another portion of him sold away?_ his hands pull away as he reaches over to the stand nearby, fingers patting for the prize there before withdrawing and shifting how he sat. One leg poised up, foot rested on the mattress so he could determine where to cut.

Some curious cannibal to be sure, asking for flesh in this manner, but Gwyn supposes he had to give him credit for knowing just which desperate sellout to ask for it. Pinching again, he unfolds the blade and lets the tip rest against the soft skin of his inner thigh. There's a bit of a shiver that runs through him, tremors making his initial cut unsteady. He pulls back for a second before steeling himself, gripping the handle sure as he continues the slice, minding his fingers as he cuts away the skin and meat there, small tears escaping his eyes when he feels his own muscles react to being mutilated.

"I didn't think you actually would." The sudden voice makes Gwyn's hand jolt, digging much further than he intended, but he doesn't show any outward indication of his panic, not speaking back and instead flicking his eyes over a second. It's about another minute until the cut pops free, Gwyn not realizing just how much blood that gushed out until now, his thigh was soaked in it, hands slick and sticky as it starts to dry and coagulate.

Extending his offering his arm is shakier than before, understanding now that it was blood loss. He could die right now from this decision of his, but when the weight is taken from his palm and replaced he finds himself satisfied. He counts the coin before clutching it tight in his hand and gathering a sheet to tie his thigh with. The other leaves as he entered, quiet and quickly, and Gwyn is already regretting his decision.

He was still paid well, better than most in fact, but if he were to gather them and place them in the wound he couldn't regain an inch of what was cut. He's still weighing if it was worth it in his mind, struggling to maneuver around the pain when he moves to stash the money away with the other glistening pieces in his collection. His leg is dead weight, numb when it didn't sting, and it's only now he notices he cant even turn it a specific way, it seems he sacrificed a bit of mobility along with his skin, but it's nothing. In order to reach his goal, Man must wade in depravity.


End file.
